


Exception

by Uncle_Riko



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 20:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uncle_Riko/pseuds/Uncle_Riko
Summary: She couldn’t be flattered, this was an utter and blatant act of villainy. Yet…it the nicest thing anyone had said to her all day.





	Exception

Dia slammed the stall door behind her. This was bullshit. They’d finally agreed to sit down and deal with all the paperwork that was piling up, yet Mari decided _today_ of all days that she would actually go to class.

Dia buried her head in her hands. She didn’t even have to use the restroom, she just needed a break from dotting her i’s, crossing her metaphorical t’s; she’d been handing out her signature far too recklessly on the budget requests that reached her desk. _Maybe_ if Mari would help out they could actually go over every request instead of Dia rushing to meet the deadlines.

She sighed; it was eerily quiet. No surprise there, the bathroom next to the Student Council room was practically her own private bathroom. It was a well-known gamble venturing into this bathroom, you risked running into the ever-intimidating Madame President. Dia, of course, wasn’t offended by any of this, how could she be? She worked hard to accrue such a reputation. Besides, she quite liked the silence. If it meant a nice quiet bathroom, she could care less what the other students thought of her.

However, today, something was amiss. Out of the corner of her eye, in shiny black writing, defacing the stall wall, her nice, clean, favorite stall, was the work of a vandal:

 

_You’re beautiful._

 

Dia felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. Wait, what? Was some petty vandalism making her blush? No way. It’s not like the graffiti was directed at _her_ , it couldn’t be. But it was well known that this bathroom was Dia’s private bathroom, surely that counted for something? She shook her head vigorously. She couldn’t be flattered, this was an utter and blatant act of villainy. Yet…it the nicest thing anyone had said to her all day. Why not take some solace in a stranger’s comforting words?

A black marker lay underneath the writing, balanced on top of a spare toilet paper roll. It seemed the culprit was careless in their coverup, leaving evidence at the scene of the crime. Dia could end it right here, bag the marker, take it to forensics, and lift the fingerprints to find the culprit. But what if the perpetrator hadn’t been careless? What if they were expecting a response?

Dia found herself reaching for the marker, the alarms in her brain oddly silent. Sure, she was a champion of the rulebook, but she was feeling particularly pissed off, particularly angsty, today.

 _And how would you know?_ she wrote, in her elegant penmanship. It was a dead giveaway as to her identity, but, hopefully, Dia had been the intended audience in the first place.

She stepped out of the stall, washing her hands out of habit. Dia looked into the mirror, seeing a smile cross her lips. She did look beautiful today; she knew that of course. But now someone else thought so too.

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t expecting a response; she’d be foolish to get her hopes up. She assumed it was a one-and-done thing, despite impulsively inquiring further in the form of her own vandalism. Come the following day, she was itching to check the bathroom; every hour she found herself wondering about the perpetrator and if they would strike again. But it was childish game of cat and mouse, and vandalism was _so_ not her style (yesterday was a considerable, shitty, exception). But what her conscience _couldn’t_ stop her from doing was drinking copious amounts of water. Whether she liked it or not, she’d have to go to the bathroom eventually.

 

...

 

Dia burst into the stall, not knowing whether she’d be greeted by bliss or by disappointment (disregarding the bliss of sweet release, of course). She pulled her panties down, popping a squat on the cold, hard seat before letting herself peek at the stall wall.

A newly minted phrase adorned the wall, right beneath her own.

 

_Because I get to see you each and every day._

 

If there was any doubt before, it was certainly gone now. The writing _was_ meant for her eyes. She paused her momentary blushing to assess her new clue. It was someone that saw her every day? Well that certainly narrowed it down to about…eight other people.

She found herself growing giddy with delight. Did someone in Aqours have a crush on her? No, no, it wasn’t possible. Maybe it was just Ruby being nice? She certainly fit the criteria of seeing Dia every day, but even then, she’d be the last person to vandalize a bathroom stall, and she was never one to be shy or roundabout in her praise for her older sister.

But what about the other seven girls? Dia had to admit it could’ve been any of them. But there was certainly someone she rather hoped it would be.

 

...

 

“Ok, which of you vandalized the second-floor bathroom!?” Dia’s hands slammed against the clubroom table. She was having a hard time containing her excitement, though feigning anger probably wasn’t helping all that much.

She was met by blank stares and even emptier sound waves.

“I’m not mad, I just…I want to know, that’s all…” She attempted to fight off her deepening blush.

“What kind of vandalism are we talking about here? And how do you know it was one of us?” It was Yoshiko that spoke up.

“W-Well, I just know, OK!?” Dia huffed. “Someone left a very…incriminating message on the stall wall…”

“Really, now? What did it say?”

Dia glared at the fallen angel, who was getting a couple other inquisitive looks from the others. Was she asking in earnest or was she just jerking Dia around? Maybe Yoshiko was the culprit?

“…I can’t say, it’s…embarrassing…”

“Well then, certainly you’d let us take a look?” Yoshiko probed.

“W-What? A-Absolutely not!”

“How are we gonna help you figure out who did it if we can’t even see what it says? You’re not giving us much to go on, ya know.” Yoshiko sighed, yet the shit-eating grin peeking out from her faux frown was unmistakable.

“Fine, I’ll just have to set up cameras and see who it is.”

“W-What?” Yoshiko jumped up, obviously rattled, garnering more stares from the others. “M-Maybe that’ll be enough to deter them—”

“Nonsense.” Dia fired off a smirk of her own. “They just _have_ to see the juicy message I left for them.”

There was an audible gulp from the fallen angel, who fell silent.

“I look forward to their response,” Dia cooed, her eyes falling on Yoshiko, “Whoever they are~”

 

...

 

Dia didn’t have much time. If the culprit was to act before her threat of installing cameras, it’d be right away. She hurried to the bathroom, to the defiled stall, and stowed herself away, waiting for the perpetrator, _for Yoshiko_ , to present herself.

Not soon after, she heard the bathroom door creak open, the stall door next, slamming open vigorously. And there, on cue, stood Yoshiko, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. She saw Dia sitting, waiting on the porcelain throne. Her attempt at a plea turned into incomprehensible stammering before Dia rose, pressing her finger against Yoshiko’s lip.

“How long did you think you could get away with this?”

“I…uh, I don’t know…” Yoshiko muttered.

Dia rolled her eyes. “The real question is, did you mean what you wrote?”

Yoshiko turned away, not daring to look into Dia’s piercing turquoise eyes. “Y-Yeah...” She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, “The truth is…I’ve actually liked you for a while now, D-Dia…” She slowly turned to face Dia, finding the third-year blushing uncontrollably. “…Whoa, wait a second, are you actually flattered? By my graffiti?”

“S-Shut up, I’m definitely _not_ flattered!”

“S-So you’re gonna punish me, then…?”

“…Look,” Dia sighed, “I told you I wasn’t mad, I just wanted to find out who wrote it…to see if—”

“To see if what?”

“…To see if it was the person _I_ liked…”

The bathroom grew quiet, more so than either thought possible.

“Well…” Yoshiko urged, cautiously. “Was it…?”

Dia bit her lip, nodding her head slowly. It was then that Yoshiko noticed a line of dialogue below hers, written in fresh, black ink.

 

_I think you’re beautiful too._

 

**Author's Note:**

> wanted to do a DiaMaru, but Maru didn't feel like a vandal to me


End file.
